The Imaginary Boy
by ass-sassin
Summary: By the time she was six, friendless and left to her own means, she had an imaginary friend – with navy hair and dark skin, and a rebellious spirit that got her in trouble more often than not.


_**A/N: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke**_

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When Satsuki was three, she was next door neighbour to a little navy haired boy who always dragged her around to eat mud pies and throw around a basketball. The family moved out, however, only a few months after they'd moved in.

By the time she was six, friendless and left to her own means, she had an imaginary friend – with navy hair and dark skin, and a rebellious spirit that got her in trouble more often than not. If wasn't her fault that he'd ask her to play with him in the mud, incurring the wrath of her mother. It wasn't _her_ fault that she wore her hair out at school because he liked it that way, even when she got in trouble for it.

But she did what he asked, and bid him to do the same, because when the girls in the schoolyard pulled on her hair and called her nasty names – when the boys would whip their skipping ropes at her – when she had no friends at all, he was there to cheer her up with a smile and his funny, brash words.

Satsuki was clever enough to keep her secret friend to herself, knowing the adults wouldn't understand why she was the only one who could see him.

Over time he stopped speaking and began communicating with her through mere looks alone. Sometimes he ridiculed her cooking and made fun of the clothes she wore when nobody was around, but most of the time he stood or sat beside her, a silent companion, a source of strength.

When her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, he sat alongside her as she cried and cried in her room, writing encouraging little notes and sticking them around her room. He couldn't touch her – and after a while he couldn't even speak anymore (secretly Satsuki thought it was because she couldn't possibly imagine what his voice had come to sound like).

She knew a few things about him, regardless. He liked basketball and perverted magazines (he'd pointed at a model with big boobs and given her thumbs up and a wink, once). Sometimes she'd go with him to watch basketball matches in her area.

He made her angry, too. Occasionally he'd be rude and immature, and she'd scold him and tell him to stop misbehaving (he wasn't real, after all).

When her mother died, he'd cried too, because Satsuki was the saddest she'd ever been and he couldn't so much as lay a finger on her.

When she'd been accepted into a prestigious University in Tokyo, he'd snapped at her, warned her not to go to an unfamiliar city.

She fought back, of course, telling him she needed to branch out – that she couldn't stay with him forever. His anger seared her and he disappeared for a good half minute (which scared the life out of her, admittedly), only to return and apologise for abandoning her.

It wasn't hard to forgive him – they were constant companions after all, they couldn't handle the tension of an argument for too long.

* * *

The big move to a room on campus of the University was an uneventful one, in his eyes, and a difficult one in hers. She had trouble getting anything out of her boxes, and so she let them sit in the living room because they were too heavy for her to even think of lifting.

Only a few days after they'd arrived, he prompted her to take him to watch the basketball practice going on across the campus.

She entered the gym and hurried over to the bleachers, hoping he would be quick to watch his fill before anyone noticed her.

"Psst," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, "I hope you don't expect me to sign up for manager again. Last time I did, those girls cut my hair!"

She caught him frowning out of the corner of her eye – though.

"Oh, don't give me that look. You get me into stupid situations more than I can count!"

There was no reply. At all. No peripheral expression, no wild hand gestures, no-

She looked beside her and blanched – because her friend was no longer there. Panicking, she stood and opened her mouth to shout to him and then-

The ball from the court slammed into her stomach and the air rushed out of her in a whoosh. Stars burst before her eyes as she dropped into a crouch, struggling to breathe.

"Sorry," came a deep drawl from above her, "I… uh… wasn't paying attention…"

She heard a few sniggers from what she assumed to be his friends, and if she wasn't so caught up on the fact that she couldn't breathe, she might've blushed. She felt someone crouch next to her.

"Hey… are you alright?" his voice was softer now, and she could feel the ghost of his hand as it hovered over her shoulder.

Blinking rapidly around the water in her eyes, Satsuki shook her head, head still bowed.

"S'okay," he soothed, "breathe. Slowly – little by little. In, out."

She eased in a few breaths around the pain in her stomach, and was finally recovering just enough to look up.

And it was _him_ – and he was _talking_ – and his hand was _touching _her.

For a moment she thought she had fainted and was dreaming – but then he held out his water bottle to her, smiling apologetically.

"Uh… I really am sorry…" he trailed off, waiting for her name.

She took a sip from his water bottle and eased out of the tight ball she was in, "Momoi Satsuki," she murmured, nodding, "and it's alright. I'm okay."

She glanced up and their eyes met – and to her horror, she couldn't look away. But he didn't look away either, and so the moment wasn't so much awkward as it was intense.

"Aomine!" bellowed a player from the court, "Hurry up or we'll finish this game without you!"

Satsuki was utterly sure that he'd walk away and play the rest of his game, but instead he yelled back, "I'll sit out for the rest." His eyes didn't wander from hers.

'Aomine' offered her a hand, and she placed hers in it, allowing him to tug her to her feet. Blood rushed to her head for a moment, and an explosion black spots invaded her vision. She lost her footing and was headed to the ground – but suddenly warm arms were around her, keeping her upright.

She shook her head and took a deep breath – he smelled like sweat and… something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was hypnotising.

"Hey, hey, are you sure you're okay?" the concern in his tone prompted her to open her eyes.

"Yes," she nodded, still leaning heavily against him, chest pressed against his, "I… just need to sit down."

He lowered her on to the bench behind them and watched her closely, a frown forming on his brow.

"I'm sorry – but… have we met before?"

She smiled up at him softly, and shrugged, "I think we have, yeah. They called you Aomine?"

He nodded, "Aomine Daiki."

"Ah," she blushed, the name sounding heaven-sent to her ears, "we used to have Aomines as neighbours long ago."

Satsuki watched him closely, hoping to see recognition in his eyes – to see something aside from confusion.

"You don't remember," she tried not to sound disappointed.

His cheeks flushed a dark pink and he stuttered, "I-I don't I'm sorry- but uh, I – maybe we can – y'know, catch up sometime – make some – uh – new memories and all that-"

She laughed, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, "Sure," and without a second thought, she leaned up and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, before whispering, "I'd like that a lot."

And although she knew she was going to miss him, she'd never been so grateful to her imaginary friend. He led her to Daiki and left her at precisely the right time – not a moment too soon.

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_**A/n: I do take prompts if you'd like to see something in particular! (yes, I mean you too, peachlover!) **_


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